


Soliloquy

by ilupant



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Mint Eye, Other, he needs a hug, how do i describe this, just a general view of a relationship with Ray?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilupant/pseuds/ilupant
Summary: Your relationship with Ray had always been complicated. Through the days of hope, the days of despair, and everything in between, you reminded him that a better future existed. It was waiting for him, and you would hold his hand and help him find it.
Relationships: Choi Saeran/Main Character, Choi Saeran/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Soliloquy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilacnightmares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacnightmares/gifts).



There was never a moment when you weren’t awaiting Ray’s next visit. Despite the ornate beauty of your room, its pink walls and sheer curtains, you felt as if you spent all of your time there waiting for the familiar knock on your door.

Ray could only come sporadically, when a rare gap in his schedule would allow for it. He would arrive at your room with a smile and a gentle flush to his cheeks. His eyes would glimmer when they met yours, taking you in as if it were the first time he’d ever seen you. 

Ray had a way of making you feel special. When he spoke to you so kindly, as if you were all that mattered, it was hard not to feel a little bit flustered. You weren’t sure if he was doing this on purpose or not, but regardless, there was no denying that he had stolen a part of your heart.

Ray would always greet you with the same earnest familiarity, showering you with flowery words and soft smiles. 

He missed you, he would say. He’d been thinking of you since you’d last parted, counting down the seconds until he could see you again. You consumed his mind, trailing behind him, both in reality and in his dreams.

Texting and calling weren’t enough. Ray needed to be able to stand with you- to look at your eyes and bask in the warmth of your smile, shining on him like streams of early-morning sunlight. Seeing you again was like watching the sunrise. Ray could see the colours in the sky when he spoke to you. He could see specks of gold atop deep, green leaves as the world came to life. Everything was bright, saturated, and so dangerously beautiful that he was almost afraid to look at you for too long. 

Seeing you here, like this, was already far too good to be true.

Your voice was as clear as the morning air, sweet as honey. Every word you spoke was crafted just for Ray, molded by your own two hands, wrapped with a pretty bow and handed to him as a gift. You talked so sweetly- you had to have him in mind when you picked your words. How else could you manage to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear? 

You were an anomaly. You could see straight into his head, and you took his heart for yourself.

That was why, when Ray took you to the gardens, he would strive to bathe you in the attention and kindness that you deserved. He gifted you gentle words and watched over you as you wandered down the winding paths, trailing between plump blossoms and emerald leaves. Ray had once believed that these gardens were the most beautiful part of the world, but they paled in comparison to you. You lavished the plants with attention, smiling gently at them and brushing your fingertips across the petals of the flowers that you liked best.

Lilacs, Ray noted. They were among your favourites. Somehow, they suited you.

He couldn’t help feeling jealous of the plants and the flowers. How nice would it be if your attention was his, and his alone? 

Just as Ray felt that he was about to be consumed by his feelings, you would look back over at him. At that moment, your smile would be just for him. He would return it with rosy cheeks, heart thrumming in his chest.

You could see Ray’s sincerity. But when you took a second to look beyond the surface, you could see even more.

There was no denying that Ray had suffered immense misfortune. He was an open book, and the words that you could read told the story of a person who had fought through endless agony. It pained you to think about the torment that he had endured. You knew that Ray had found himself here not because he wanted to, but because at some point, there was no other choice left. 

Was that why you strove to offer him another option? Why you found yourself trying to convince Ray that there was beauty in the world?

You would talk endlessly about the things you loved the most. You tried to paint the outside world in the brightest light that you could find. Though you knew just how deep the darkness could get, you also knew that there was just as much good. It was everywhere, permeating into every passing second, and it awaited all of those who sought it out. You wanted Ray to look for it.

So you would go on about your favourite parts of life, trying to convince Ray that the world in his dreams existed. And he would listen to your voice, your every word settling deep into his heart, where he would cherish them forever. He tried to internalize everything you gave him, holding onto it tightly as if he was preparing for your inevitable departure.

But your sincerity brought forth a similar honesty from Ray, and he would find himself speaking everything on his mind without holding back. He was more transparent around you than he was around anyone else, and he found that he often talked about things that he knew didn’t matter. Your presence was so comforting that Ray could be himself around you. He could talk about mundane things- the small pockets of the world that he still liked. 

Ray wasn’t sure if you cared about such small, useless things. He worried that he would annoy you, but you encouraged him with that same, gentle smile. And when you were so earnest, he found that he wanted to indulge your every whim. So anytime you prompted Ray to continue, he would. 

He would spill his heart out into the open if you so desired.

It was only with you by his side that Ray entertained the idea that there was still good in the world. You brought light into Paradise with your very existence, illuminating it gently, driving away the shadows that lurked out of sight. Ray could stay here forever. He could work himself to the bone, prove himself to the world, if only you would remain by his side. 

Ray could make everything perfect for you.

All you had to do was to continue speaking about the beauty of the world with bright eyes and a soothing smile. You just needed to keep gracing him with your laughter- the small, embarrassed chuckles that fell into the air when you would stumble over your words, as if you weren’t sure what to say. 

As soon as you had come to Paradise, Ray had found his thoughts returning to topics and feelings that he had tried to subdue for so long. When you were with him, you managed to tap into the hope that Ray kept hidden away. You held it in your hands gently, treasuring it, cultivating it, and it had started to grow into something he could no longer ignore. You pulled apart the threads that Ray had haphazardly wound together and shoved away.

It was because of you that Ray felt he could dream again. It was because of you that the world seemed just a little bit safer.

And, when you met his eyes, Ray couldn’t help wondering if you felt the same. He dared to entertain the possibility that sometimes, he would cross your mind, too.

You had to think about him sometimes, right? That had to be why you would thread your fingers against him, your thumb tracing the ridges of his knuckles through his gloves. Ray couldn’t imagine that anyone would ever want to touch him, but you still held his hand, keeping him close, gifting him the warmth and safety that he had once forgotten. If Ray could choose his own fate, he would stay like this with you, connected by hand, for as long as he could. And you kept your fingers woven between his like you wanted to remain by his side, too.

You did want to stay with him, right? 

There couldn’t be any other reason why you would walk beside him, your arm grazing against his from time to time, intoxicating him with every touch. 

Whenever you would brush Ray’s bangs out of his eyes so gently, he dared to hope that you were with him because you liked him. The ghost of your touch always made him shiver, his face flushing a deep red as you brought forth feelings he could never hope to explain.

You always spoke so highly of Ray, as if you were trying to craft into existence parts of him that were better than he knew he was. You spoke as if there were sides of him that were more than just the useless, weak parts left exposed to the world.

“You’re not weak,” your words were soft, and your hand on his cheek was just as gentle. “You’re so kind, Ray. I like you just the way you are.”

And when you said it like that, with all of the conviction in the world, Ray thought that you must really believe what you were saying. Even if he wasn’t sure that he could ever truly internalize your praises, you must have considered your words to be the epitome of truth.

And you did. 

You wanted Ray to believe in his worth. You wanted him to know that there was still good in the world, even after being deprived of it for so long. If there was anyone who deserved to bathe in daylight and watch the clouds overhead, it was Ray. 

He hadn’t told you much about the agony he’d experienced, but from what you did know, Ray had grown up in a constant state of suffering. You’d listened to him cry to you on the phone after nightmares. You’d seen the flashes of panic in his eyes when intrusive memories would make his mind their home. Ray was a bleeding, open wound. You hoped that you could soothe at least some of the pain, even if not much.

You knew that he didn’t truly believe everything that you were saying, but he would still flush deeply when you praised him. Ray’s eyes would dart around, unable to hold your gaze for long, like he wasn’t sure whether he should avert his eyes or look directly at you. Even if he couldn’t see the truth in your words, they still seemed to sit with him. 

Though Ray was always jumpy and unsure, he seemed to relax at least a bit around you. He would tell you that he didn’t deserve you, but his actions contradicted his words. Ray spoke down on himself, claiming that you were far too good for him, yet his grip on your hand was tight. It was a silent plea for you to keep holding him tightly, guiding him forward, remaining by his side for as long as you could. 

And you would. You would never let go of his hand.

You would wipe away every stray tear from beneath Ray’s eyes. You would whisper words of comfort when the pain became too much. You would wrap your arms around him when demons swarmed overhead, filling his mind with nothing but scathing teeth and cacophonies of relentless violence. You would continue to show Ray kindness, holding his hands, pressing your lips to his head in gestures of quiet comfort. You would hold him as securely as you could, and he would still try to pull you closer, as if he was trying to disappear into you. Gloved fingers would dig into the fabric of your sleeves, and though Ray would lament that he didn’t deserve you, his hold begged you to not let him go.

You knew that this place was no Paradise. It was a farce, a beautifully constructed lie, meant to ensnare those that had nowhere else to go. It brainwashed its victims with promises of everlasting happiness and a salvation that was forever out of reach. Ray was on a leash, being yanked back and forth, meant to constantly prove his worth. He had been contorted in the hands of another, made into a tool, and made to believe that this fate was a blessing. He was forced past his limits daily, and it was obvious from his pale skin and puffy eyebags that he was a breath away from collapsing. Ray felt obligated to push himself far beyond what his body could take, as if anything less would spell his eternal demise. This was what he had to do for Paradise, after all. 

It wore him down. There were times when Ray appeared little more than a shell, drained and left empty. Though he cried, consumed by the guilt of his own perceived uselessness, you tried to see the possibility for change. You believed that his suffering meant something more. Ray’s crying told you that he knew that there was a world better than this one. Even if he believed that it was out of his reach, as long as Ray continued to yearn for something more, he would not forget that it existed. That told you that there was something else amidst the agony- something gentle and sweet, waiting for a chance to emerge. 

Hope. 

You could see it in his eyes every time he looked at you. With every flowery word, with every mention of an ideal life with you, his eyes would glimmer. Ray spoke of flowers, ice cream, and clouds. He talked about trying recipes and making a book of those he liked the best. He dreamed about traveling with you, seeing the most beautiful sights that the world had to offer. You could hear it in Ray’s voice as he spoke endlessly, smiling as he did. He maintained an anticipation of a better future because he knew that it was out there. And as long as Ray remembered that there was a world better than this one, he would continue to yearn for all of the good that the world had to offer.

And he desperately hoped that he could share all of it with you. 

Ray was suffering, and you knew that. His every word was laced with exhaustion, a persistent fatigue that clung to him like iron shackles. His shoulders slumped and he would often cry, tears sliding down his cheeks, occasionally falling to the lapels of his magenta coat and leaving dark, circular traces in their wake. Ray was overworked, run into the ground, and left to rot on his own. He was made to believe that he was alone, deserving of all of the misfortune that had befallen him.

But Ray was so much more than that. He was so much more than his darkest days, so much more than the shadows of his past.

Ray could not see what you saw. He could not comprehend the good within himself. He seemed to only see beauty and hope through you. 

But to you, it was Ray who was truly beautiful. His eyes were those of morning sunlight, his words born from someone who continued to strive for good and beauty, even when surrounded with nothing but pain and hatred. He was gentle and kind, worthy of a life better than the one he was living now.

You could only hope that someday, Ray would see that. You dreamed of the day when you could take Ray by the hand and lead him out of these ornately decorated halls. You wanted the robed figures and days of endless struggling to become a distant memory of a painful past.

Ray was more than this place. He was more than Paradise, and much more than he believed himself to be. 

And you would continue to remind him of that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr (@ilupant) as a birthday gift! Written for lilacnightmares (on here), or @marshmallowprotection on Tumblr. Check her out! She does amazing work!


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